


Broody Brother

by SkellyTelly



Series: For Others [1]
Category: Undertail - Fandom
Genre: Brooding, Caretale (AU), Egg Laying, Gen, Harpy!Papyrus, Oviposition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 05:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14664258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkellyTelly/pseuds/SkellyTelly
Summary: A feathery Papyrus seems to be quite moody as of late.





	Broody Brother

**Author's Note:**

> For thetailofunderta1l on tumblr!
> 
> If you want to read more about their AU "Caretale", go on ahead to here: https://thetailofunderta1l.tumblr.com/post/173884347647/backstory-on-caretale

Every morning was welcomed in with the sing-songy chirps of a chipper avian brother. The dawn chorus. Well, Papyrus is probably the only avian to live in this household, so it was like a dawn _solo_. There was no real rhyme or reason for it from what Sans could tell, it was just what Papyrus enjoyed doing. Sure helped to save any money on some alarm clock. Papyrus was always awake at the crack of dawn, right on the dot. Did it ever get annoying? Sometimes. But it was also a lovely morning tune.

 

Even if some of the chirps were a little grating and more screechy.

 

Sans much preferred to sleep in on those lazy weekends, but Papyrus was far too demanding. One big bird was in need of big, well-balanced meals after all.

 

So just as every other morning, Sans rolled out of bed and in the process just shortcutted to the kitchen, his eyes were still barely even open as he got together Papyrus’s breakfast. Now, a bird diet would just be too easy to throw together. Papyrus still enjoyed a normal breakfast like many other monsters, the trick was that Papyrus can’t exactly hold a spoon or fork, so either it had to be something that wouldn’t leave a big mess on Papyrus, or Sans would have to hand feed him.

 

He didn’t mind, but sometimes Papyrus preferred doing it himself. And by all means, if he so wishes, he shall… However, if it’s one of Papyrus’s absolute favorite foods, such as- _oatmeal with those little dinosaur eggs in them_ , then, Papyrus would not refuse.

 

And this morning, Sans felt it would be nice to give his brother something a little special, grabbing the box of brand oatmeal from the cupboard, combined it with some milk in a bowl, and popped it into the microwave for a quick zap. Not too long after, Sans pulled out the bowl, grabbed a spoon, then backed his way out of the kitchen and in through Papyrus’s bedroom door.

 

“Hey there, tweety bird.” Sans said, holding the bowl up in one hand and the spoon in the other, “Ready for some morning munch?”

 

Feathery ears flicked Sans’s way before whipping their whole head around, Papyrus looked to Sans with wide-eyed wonder. Taking a moment to see the white ceramic in one hand, and the silvery glint in the other, and if his nose was not deceiving him… Papyrus chirped, hopping around fully and waving his wings, “ _Hel-lu! Hel-lu!_ ” He parroted.

 

That cheerful greeting was plenty reason for Sans to get out of bed any morning, he stirred the oatmeal in the bowl to keep the top layer from drying out, “Got yer favorite right here for ya.”

 

Sans took a swivel chair in Papyrus’s bedroom, kicking it around so he sat leaning forward into the back of the chair. This way he could much more lazily lounge forward and feed Papyrus easily. Papyrus’s bedroom had over the years evolved into a hybrid of a normal bedroom and a birdcage ( _sans_ the whole “cage” element), keeping many of the old memorabilia that Papyrus had as a child and even had accumulated as he grew through his teen years in this avian state. Though there were many things that were added and fixed too: for one there was now a big swing that hung from the ceiling so Papyrus had something he could hop up on, as well as a couple big puzzles that were woodshop made gifts so that Papyrus could actually play with them by using his talons instead of worrying about needing fingers. The doors also had been made a little more talon friendly so that Papyrus could leave his room if he ever felt a little too cooped up. Though the front door was left unchanged as Sans preferred Papyrus not just run off without his supervision. Not like Papyrus could use a cell phone all too easily and let him know where he was or where he planned to go.

 

Over the years, they managed to work out a system of communicating, but Sans was pretty much always one step ahead now Papyrus did not have to type things out on some small keyboard all the time.

 

Spoonful after spoonful of lukewarm oatmeal, Sans looked around Papyrus’s bedroom. Papyrus’s bed, the very same one he used to sleep in as a child, still remained in his room, still in that ever cool, fire red racecar bed frame. There really had not been any reason to make the bed since Papyrus didn’t care to sleep under the covers, he just sat on it and then snoozed away.

 

Though from the looks of it… There were more feathers on there than what he could recall seeing before. Like… A funnily absurd amount of feathers. Sans then glanced back over to Papyrus, taking a look at him and…

 

“Papyrus?” Sans led into question: “Are you losing feathers?”

 

From the looks of it, the feathers that coated Papyrus’s femurs looked to be… A little patchy. Papyrus did stop for a moment to look down at his own thighs. Bringing one knee up to look closer at that balding spot before stomping his foot back down, rather nonchalant to the whole thing.

 

Feather loss wasn’t something to take too lightly, Sans gave a hard look over Papyrus as he continued to feed him the rest of the oatmeal, nothing else seemed too peculiar about him… His appetite sure wasn’t taking a toll, he looked relatively healthy and well, his demeanor hadn’t changed really… Nevertheless, this was not going to stop bothering Sans until he thoroughly looked into this.

 

 

* * *

 

Sans waited a few days after finding out Papyrus was plucking feathers, to see if anything else developed. Sure, plucking feathers is a pretty big no-go, but there had to be more to it that Sans wanted to wait to see develop before making any worst-case assumptions.

 

The pile of feathers on the bed only continued to accumulate, in fact, Sans noticed one day that there were then old clothes being piled up on the bed too. Old t-shirts and stray socks. And when Sans tried to go grab a single sock, Papyrus slapped a feathery wing at Sans’s hand.

 

And that was the next thing that Sans took notice of: whenever he came into Papyrus’s bedroom without any food in hand, Papyrus got pretty moody with him. Papyrus would puff up his feathers and coo or hiss at him. Sans had to admit… It was kinda funny at first.

 

It was less funny when Papyrus went out of his way to nip at Sans.

 

… Then Sans got that thought: maybe this is less Papyrus being _moody_ , and more Papyrus being **_broody_ **.

 

The final tip-off had to be the small tummy bump Papyrus had on him. The bird brother normally had such a flat stomach, so to see it have just the slightest bit of roundness to it was easily spotted.

 

Sans could thankfully not be concerned with this small clutch of eggs producing any unplanned _nieces or nephews_ , Papyrus has had no contact with any other monsters to mate and make any of the eggs potentially fertilized. This still did mean that Papyrus was going to lay them at some point… To which, Sans had no clue of when.

 

Now, he was much more understanding to Papyrus’s plight, and rather than scold him over plucking out his own feathers, started offering up more old socks or old feather pillows for him to rip to shreds and add to his ever-growing nest.

 

 

* * *

 

One fine evening, Sans had attempted to give lunch to Papyrus, but he simply wasn’t having it. Papyrus was probably the most hostile Sans had seen him as he barely took one step into his room before being hissed at and having a rather puffed up angry bird boy lunge at him. Sans called it quits for the day, leaving a bowl of chopped vegetables by Papyrus’s door and retreating to the living room.

 

It was getting late, which could easily be told by the lack of interesting programming left broadcasting on TV. Sleep was probably the best option right about now. Sans would have made Papyrus dinner if not for having called up to him earlier only to get a hiss in return.

 

 _Who knew brooding would bite this much_ , Sans groaned internally. He flicked the TV off, rolled off the couch and shortcutted right onto his bed, flopping face first into his pillow and not bothering with the blankets.

 

After a few minutes lying there, Sans started to hear some rather… Odd noises coming from next door. Pitiful coos and wing flaps now and again. The more Sans lied there trying to ignore them… He couldn’t.

 

He swung his feet over the edge of the mattress and stood up, walking his way out of the room and over to Papyrus’s door. Out of courtesy, he knocked, waiting for a response from the other side.

 

There was a long pause before another whine came from inside.

 

“Pap?” Sans opened the door, and lo and behold, Papyrus was upon his bed, in his nest, and looking rather uncomfortable, “Ah geez.” Sans was over to Papyrus’s bedside in an instant, he still kept his hands close to himself to avoid any vicious nipping or wing swats. Yet this had been the closest Papyrus really allowed Sans to get to him in recent days now, “Oof, hey buddy, you alright?”

 

Papyrus shifted around the nest, trying to just find a comfortable position to be in, but every now and then he would whine and huff. Sans merely offered up a hand, and Papyrus pressed his forehead to the palm.

 

“There’s my happy harpy.” Sans reached up and “scritched” Papyrus’s ear tufts, getting behind and under them just how he liked, “You’re doing good, dude. Take your time.”

 

Papyrus gave a huff, finally positioning in just a way that was a being propped up on his knees and then in a low squat. The first egg was already beginning to bulge so Papyrus huffed a couple quick breathes through his nose before bearing down. The egg was passing through, slowly, but surely. Though with this being a first time ever for Papyrus, the egg felt much larger than it actually was. He gave a few more pitiful whimpers before pushing down a few seconds more. The rising pressure was soon then released with an immediate relief as the egg dropped down between his legs.

 

Sans felt Papyrus’s head lean into his hands and saw his shoulders relax. Pretty sure by those cues, Papyrus managed to get past the first egg, and Sans patted his head, “Hey there ya go, hopefully, the _nest_ one will be just as easy.” He began to grin, “Though hopefully not _over-easy_.”

 

Papyrus gave a sharp glare at Sans, but the older brother was already snickering away at his own puns. Not much Papyrus could do, as the next eggs came in quick succession. There was a bit more adjustment to Papyrus’s legs to spread them open a little wider as he huffed and grunted through pushing these next ones. The pressure pushed down on Papyrus’s opening, it was not painful, but it almost would get to that point. Just as the widest part of the egg began to pass through, it immediately tapered off and dropped down along with the other few eggs, giving Papyrus another satisfying relief that he could sigh happily at.

 

Each egg could fit the entirety of one’s hand, being fairly large to accommodate to Papyrus’s size, but being small enough that it was easy for the harpy to manage. There was three, then four, then five… Then six… Seven… Good god, where was Papyrus keeping all of these things?? Like, again, they’re not _that_ big, but they’re not that _small_ either.

 

Thankfully though, number eight would be the last one. Papyrus had turned around, instead he faced his back to Sans. Papyrus didn’t want to see his stupid face while he tried shoehorning in more bad egg puns.

 

Sans provided Papyrus with the support to lean back against, hands holding him at his ribcage to keep steady as Papyrus struggled with this one last egg. It was easier when there were more eggs behind the next, but this being the last one made Papyrus have to really use those ab muscles while talons dug into the old bedsheets. After a couple of impatient huffs, Papyrus finally began to just hold out long enough for the last push to finally get the egg through his oviduct, and just like that, he felt so weightless and unburdened.

 

Papyrus was given reassuring pats to the back, “Way to go, Paps. Sorry about all the bird puns… _Owl_ be sure to tone back on them next time.”

 

If Papyrus possessed the energy right now to slap at Sans with his wing, he would… Actually, he did, he flung one wing back to knock at the side of Sans’s head.

 

Sans laughed, and carefully lowered Papyrus back down into his nest, “Alright alright, I can take a _hoot_ -I mean _hint_ !” He was just _cracking_ himself up, at just making even more _eggcellent_ accidental puns.

 

And like that, Papyrus eased onto his nest, pulling the eggs in over all the nesting had been bundled up. While Sans remembered reading about how he should take those eggs out or replace them with fake eggs soon… He thought he’d let Papyrus just have this one night of peace with them. Sans had to still think of a proper way to dispose of those eggs since it would probably be too weird using them to fry up scrambled eggs for the next morning… Yeah, ew, no really weird.

 

Nah, instead, Sans took Papyrus’s desk chair, spun it around, sat in it, and rested his head on his folded arms as he watched Papyrus perfectly bring the eggs underneath him and lay his wings over them to keep the eggs all warm under his body and with the help of the nest.


End file.
